<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Mind of The Controlled by ghosty_goo</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24800707">Mind of The Controlled</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghosty_goo/pseuds/ghosty_goo'>ghosty_goo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Splatoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Gen, Mind Control, Minor Character Death, blood is blue AS IT SHOULD BE, no direct mentions of 8 he's just referred to as 'he/him'</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:42:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>740</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24800707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghosty_goo/pseuds/ghosty_goo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate universe in which Agent 8 never became an agent. Rather, he stayed controlled, connected to the hivemind. </p><p>A short story about an interaction with Agent 3.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mind of The Controlled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He woke up. Just as everyone around him had. He was the one male in an army of thousands of females. They were much more powerful than he was, but he was just strong enough to be with them. Male octolings were rare. Used only as experiments. </p><p>He was lucky to be alive. </p><p>He followed his fellow soldiers. They all had a small, but surprisingly filling meal. Then, they were all off to the battlefield. </p><p>He was with a group of around 20. The only male in his troop. He was okay with it. He had no reason to care.</p><p>None of them did.</p><p>He stood in place, waiting for the enemy, just as he always did. For some odd reason, he was always ignored. You could say he was grateful, but he was unable to feel, so it made no difference.</p><p>He stood for what was possibly hours, as they all had to be on the battlefield all hours of the day.</p><p>Then suddenly, an alert.</p><p>All of them jumped to action, his fellow recruits leaving the spawn point first. He was always the last to leave. As expected. Males are seen as weaker.</p><p>He stood and watched them all die. He, however, didn’t feel anything. He just watched as their blood splattered against the floor, mixing with the enemy’s neon blue ink. They looked almost identical in colour, if the ink was just a few shades darker. </p><p>Then, it was his and two other’s turns to face the enemy. They all superjumped to their places one by one. He landed just as his teammate’s head exploded with blue. She let out one last scream of agony as her body began to fall apart, blood gushing and splashing to the ground.</p><p>For some reason, this sent a chill down his back. </p><p>He turned his eyes away from his fallen ‘friend,’ and up, at the long-haired assailant. Their eyes were a deep, blood-blue. They met with his own, and he instinctively pulled the trigger on his octoshot. The enemy dodged with impossible speed. They rolled, pushing him over, causing him to drop his weapon. He struck his head on the concrete floor, releasing a shout of pain.</p><p>The enemy paused, staring down at him just as the others around him did. They locked eyes with him once again, his heart pounding against his chest. He was trying to reach for his weapon, but panic overtook his very being. His brain, for some reason, felt more clear than normal.</p><p>But before he could process what was happening to him, they turned to the side. He was brushed off completely by the enemy. They simply stepped over him and went off to kill the last of his teammates. </p><p>He watched her die.</p><p>The sight made him want to gag. His vision blurred. At first, he thought it was because of his hitting his head, but the pain had subsided already. But no, it was tears. They broke from the prison of his eyes and streamed down his face. He watched the scene as if it were in slow motion.</p><p>The enemy kicked her down; a kick directly to the stomach. She gagged, releasing what she ate that morning. The enemy shouted… something at her. They seemed upset. They held her down with their foot on her chest. They held their weapon right next to her forehead. They looked even more upset. They shouted again. It was one filled with sorrow.</p><p>Next thing he knew, his teammate’s head was gone. A brilliant, blue burst. It splattered against the enemy’s face, dripping down their cheeks, clothes, and hands. They stayed in the same position as before until there was nothing but blood mixed with ink. </p><p>He stared, feeling dizzy. His stomach flipped, emptying it faster than he could process. The enemy snapped their head to the side, facing directly at him. They took a deep breath before walking off to complete their task. </p><p>Then he was left alone. </p><p>At this point, he would be getting an alert—or rather, a desire— to leave. But it was silent. He attempted to stand, but his arms and legs were unreasonably weak. Yes, he was weak from creation, but never this weak. </p><p>He just moved over, laid down, and was out in a matter of seconds. </p><p>But before he drifted away, he removed his broken glasses, his mind clearer than it had ever been.</p><p> </p><p>He was free.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>